


Coming to Terms with the Semester

by carpe_canis



Series: Rayllum Week 2019 [3]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Rayllum Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-01-16 01:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpe_canis/pseuds/carpe_canis
Summary: Day 3 of Rayllum Week 2019: Modern College AU





	1. In Which a Problem Arises

**Author's Note:**

> OK, obviously timeliness is not a thing I have for these prompts, as this is basically a week behind. I work on these when I have down time at my job, and this one in particular ended up running away from me once I got going.

“Hey, roomie,” came Rayla’s voice as the door to their apartment slammed open. “I hope you’re hungry! I brought enough greasy noodles to—” 

Callum shushed her with a finger aloft, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave her an irritated glance. 

With an eyebrow raised in suspicion, she scooted around him to deposit her payload on the scuffed, second-hand IKEA end table they’d repurposed into more of a coffee table in front of their equally beat-up couch. Flopping down dramatically and shooting him another pointed look, she began rustling around in the bags louder than was probably strictly necessary. He scowled back at her and stepped into his room, closing the door behind him pointedly.

“More for me!” she called after him. “Now,” she turned her full attention to the containers in front of her, “Which one of you has the dumplings?”

\----  
“OK, yes, no, really, uh… thanks. I really appreciate it. No, totally, yeah. Great! I’ll, uh, I’ll text you later. About this. Yeah. Thanks!”

Callum finally emerged from his room, sliding his phone into his pocket with one of the dumbest looks she had ever seen on his face. And she roomed with this sweet idiot, so she had seen a lot of dumb things.

Stuffing another mouthful of noodles into her face, she gave him another raised eyebrow of inquiry. They’d spent enough time together that he knew her facial expressions, and he knew that when she resorted to using them instead of speaking to him, she was probably at least mildly annoyed.

“Sorry about that,” he said, hopping over the back of the couch to plop next to her. As he sank in, he couldn’t help but do a little fist pump of excitement, his grin faltering only slightly as Rayla now focused her stare on him fully, chopsticks settling into the takeout container in her lap. 

“And what, pray tell, was ‘that’ anyways? You’ve never shushed me before. It was just plain rude, you know.”

“And barging in loudly isn’t? I was on the phone.”

“Which is another thing,” she countered, gesturing to his pocket, “Mr. Shy Guy is suddenly calling people instead of texting them? You don’t even call Ez!” She shoveled another mouthful of noodles aggressively. Then, as an afterthought, she softened her glare. “Nothing’s wrong with him, right?”

“What? Oh, no. He’s fine. I mean, that wasn’t him. Actually, well….” Callum suddenly felt his cheeks heat and looked away. “You know how I’ve been enjoying my, uh, my art class?” He looked up to see Rayla’s gaze relax a bit further. She knew how much of a stress relief that class was for him in the midst of all of the high level Arcanum he’d had piled on his plate this semester. He cleared his throat. “Well… uh, so, it turns out that for our final project, we need to find some models of our own.”

“Models? Wait, isn’t this the class where… oh. Oh.” Suddenly her gaze was anywhere but his, a rare blush burning on her cheeks. “And… you found someone willing, I’m guessing?”

He couldn’t help the dopey grin that spread across his face. “You remember me telling you about Claudia?”

Her gaze stopped wandering, focusing instead somewhere at the wall above the television. “Ah. The girl that grew up down the street from you? Year ahead in your program?”

“Yeah! She’s –”

“That would explain the excitement then,” came Rayla’s flat voice. “Sorry for interrupting you earlier. I’m sure you’re just stoked for this opportunity.” She set her container down on the coffee table. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower and hit the hay early tonight.”

And before Callum could process what had just happened, the door to the bathroom clicked closed, leaving him sitting with cold kung pao chicken in hand and a look of confusion on his face.


	2. In Which the Problem Escalates

It was stupid, Rayla knew, to be so worked up over this.

They were roommates. Unlikely friends brought together through happenstance, a mutual acquaintance, and the shared need for somewhere to crash near campus.

Peeling her shirt over her head, she stared into the mirror, frowning at the telling shine in her eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she turned away and began removing the rest of her clothing.

It was stupid to feel this possessive. He wasn’t _hers_ , she wasn’t _his_. They were friends, and great ones at that. He was free to fawn over whomever he chose. She had only recently come to the realization herself that he meant a bit more than maybe a friend should, but decided that what they had here was too important to risk screwing it up.

After a brief struggle with the handle that always stuck, she got the water running, and found her gaze returning to the mirror while she waited for it to warm up. Sure, maybe she’d put on those infamous Freshman Five last year, but she worked out regularly, and only indulged in junk food nights on these rare Fridays neither of them had plans or extracurriculars. Though, her brain supplied bitterly, apparently Callum was hoping to fit a bit more into that latter category than she’d been aware.

“Ugh, this is asinine.” With a growl, she grabbed her shampoo and stepped in. The temperature here never seemed to be perfect, but it was warm enough to be tolerated, and it wasn’t like she planned on staying long anyways. 

Mindlessly she went through her routine, making a point of scrubbing her scalp with extra vigor, particularly around the base of her horns, as though it would help wash out the traitorous thoughts bouncing around underneath.

“Who cares if he wants to ogle that… that… ugh,” Rayla whispered angrily to the showerhead. “He’s a boy. Isn’t that what they’re all like?”

Before she knew it, she was finished, and as she went about drying off, her head continued to swim. Why was this making her so angry? She knew it was irrational. He was an adult. He was allowed to like who he liked, and they had known each other a long time. Hell, Rayla had _known_ he still had a bit of a thing for Claudia before they’d even become roommates. And besides, this was for his art class. He’d been sitting there sketching naked people all semester and she’d done nothing but tease him with delight at his awkwardness over the subject.

“Whatever,” she grumbled to herself, tossing her hair towel over the curtain rod. “Just get your head together, Rayla. Let’s grab our things and…” she trailed off as it hit her. In her haste to get away, she hadn’t brought a change of clothes. 

Taking a steadying breath, she eyed the garments she’d peeled off before, but wrinkled her nose instantly. It had been pretty warm today, and she’d wrestled greasy Chinese several blocks and up the stairs less than an hour ago. Even if it was just down the hall to her room, she didn’t want to put any of that on now that she felt clean. Carefully secured towel it would be.

\----

Callum still sat on the couch, box of take out barely touched in his lap. 

Had he said something wrong? Was she still mad about the way he’d waved her off when she’d come home? She’d been right, of course, that he hadn’t ever just blown her off like that in the nearly two years they’d shared this place. But, rudeness aside, it still didn’t seem like something she’d hold a grudge over.

He had honestly been so nervous talking to Claudia on the phone, especially since he’d had such an embarrassing request to make, that he had panicked when she blew in like the storm she was.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Perhaps the rush to the bathroom was just the noodles hitting fast and without warning; stars knew how often they’d dealt with that when they had their Friday night junk food binges.

Pulling his phone back out, he opened his messages and found the window he’d been talking to her in just this afternoon. Was there some clue there he’d overlooked?  
The sound of the water shut off, and he heard her muttering to herself as she moved about. He was preparing himself mentally for trying to catch her attention when she came out – he wanted to make sure everything was OK – but when the door swung open, he forgot what he was going to say.

As if sensing his eyes immediately, she turned her head towards him with a glare that warned him not to comment. Not like he’d have been able to get a word out around his useless tongue anyways. 

Rayla’s hair was still damp, and strands of it were clinging to her neck and the tops of her shoulders. Had it gotten longer, or was it just laying flatter with the water? The normally bright silver was darker - like the underside of a cloud his brain useless provided – and he could not seem to pry his gaze from where one particular lock was draped across her clavicle, highlighting the angle of the bone. 

Tearing his eyes back up at the sound of an irritated throat clearing, he noted that her cheeks were more pink than normal. Was that from the shower, or – ?

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, Callum. Close your dumb human mouth.”

“Wh- Nothing I – When?! When have you walked around in nothing but a towel before?!” he sputtered, gesturing up and down with both hands. “I would remember that!”

That definitely turned her cheeks from pink to red, and as his brain caught up with his mouth, he felt his do the same. Still, he wasn’t backing down now. Setting his jaw and arching an eyebrow, he gave her an expression that clearly asked for explanation.

“How can you not remember the day you dragged me kicking and screaming to the beach last summer, dummy? The suit I wore showed more skin than this.”  
Oh, he remembered the suit. “That’s not the same!”

“Not the same?” she laughed incredulously, embarrassment forgotten as she stomped closer. “How is this,” her hand swept from pointed ear to thigh, “any different?”  
Callum swallowed as he looked up at her. She hadn’t quite closed the distance, but it wasn’t like the apartment was huge. One more good stride and she’d be right beside the couch. Even from where she was, her demeanor reminded him why he had a healthy respect for the number of ways she could probably end him. Her legs were braced, and he absent-mindedly noted the way each of the muscles was visible. Her shoulders, which he had been totally not admiring just a moment ago were now rising, the corded muscles under her skin coiling like she was restraining from strangling him. 

“Because,” he answered meekly, “you’re… uh… you’re _naked_ under that.”

There was a pause in which he seriously thought she might be debating how hard to hit him upside the head, and suddenly her entire demeanor melted from murder to mirth. One hand clutching the top of her towel, the other came up in a swift face palm as she began giggling.

“Oh, Callum, really? _Really?_ ” She brought her palm away from her eyes to give him a look he’d become all too familiar with. Humoring pity – he’d seen it plenty earlier this semester when he’d come home from art class. She seemed to take a steadying breath, but lost whatever tenuous grip she’d started to get on her composure, and instead doubled over with renewed laughter. “But you – Earlier, you were just _gushin’_ about gettin’ to draw your precious Claudia and now you’re stammering like an idiot over plain ol’ _me_?”

Even though he was focusing very hard on not looking at the view she was inadvertently providing him with this bent position, he didn’t miss the hint of venom in her jibe about Claudia. Face still burning, he caught her gaze. 

“First of all,” he snapped, “I don’t appreciate your tone about my friend.” Her mien shifted, losing the humor and turning to something between apology and hurt. “And secondly,” he cleared his throat, feeling his momentum slipping away, “uh, secondly, it’s just… different. Nudity for art isn’t the same as running around the apartment without clothes.”

“Oh, of course, my mistake,” she scoffed. “You only called her for this project because of the unique challenge her form was going to present for you! Not because you’ll be droolin’ all over it or anythin’!”

“I’m not gonna _drool_!” he spat incredulously. Where the hell was all this coming from all of the sudden? “I don’t know why you even care, but I just wanted to ask someone I could, I dunno, maybe, someone I could _trust_. Why is that so hard to believe?”

She stepped back like he had slapped her. “Trust?” He could see her throat bob as fought to swallow, noticed the tell-tale shine in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “Ri’. Of course. Not anythin’ I’d be familiar with, apparently.” Her accent was thickening even more, another tell. 

He had messed this up. That had not come out the way he intended. “Rayla, I didn’t mean –”

“No, I think you’ve said exactly wha’ you meant.” 

“Look, I just- I’ve known her a long time, is what I was trying to say. It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he winced internally at how badly it sounded like he was backpedaling, “I trust you a lot! Hey, we’re roomies, right? We’re friends!” Even to his ears, it sounded so childish. Like he was a kid caught sneaking jelly tarts, not an adult apologizing to someone important.

“Whatever, Callum. You’re right.” She turned and walked down the hall. “Why should I care?” With that, her door slammed behind her, and for the second time that night, Callum was left feeling like his emotions were the victim of a hit-and-run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thoughts and comments appreciated.


	3. In Which the Problem is Finally Revealed

The sun rose on another spring Saturday, which meant neither of them had class. Normally, Rayla was up early to hit the gym before all the jocks nursing hang-overs gained consciousness, but when Callum drifted awake on the couch, he saw her door was still closed. Great. 

Groggily, he rubbed his hand over his eyes and rolled his head, trying to stretch out the kink that had apparently developed overnight. This hand-me-down couch wasn’t exactly intended for sleeping. Not that he’d intended on staying there all night; he’d sat in bewilderment for a while, decided he wasn’t hungry, tried to distract himself with social media, then stared blankly at his open sketchbook until he’d apparently nodded off.

Maybe a shower would help. A shower and some breakfast. Maybe some epiphany would come to him while he cleaned up. Maybe this fog in his brain, this twist in his gut would fade with food. 

\----

“OK, you can do this. You’re a big girl. A big girl with apology burritos. And coffee.”

The march up the stairs to their floor was accompanied by an ironic dirge in her mind, and she shook her head to clear it. This was all going to be fine. Callum was kind, far kinder than she deserved, and she was going to make this whole thing up to him. Explain herself. She owed him that much, at least.

Coming at last to their door, she juggled the brown paper bag onto the drink carrier she was balancing on one arm, fishing out her key with the other hand. A jiggle and a hip bump later, the door swung in and she backed in after it, pulling her key out on the way.

Setting her goods on the counter, she pocketed her key and noticed the sound of the shower going. Her mind jumped – traitorously – to the thought that he was in there. And then, as if on cue, the water cut off, and she heard the curtain slide back. She flashed back to standing there herself last night, and what had happened when she’d come out, and the emotional mess that had ensued. She’d spent a good portion of her night running circles in her own mind, and once the sun had started to peek over the horizon, she decided she might as well do some physical running to clear her mind. It usually worked when she’d been having a stressful week, allowing her enough distraction to be able to focus in on one thing at a time. It controlled the chaos. Her brain couldn’t jump tracks when it was too busy making sure she didn’t collapse.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed her mind back to the state it had been in once she’d finished her morning run. Calm. Focused. She’d worked out what needed to be done, and as hard as it might be, she needed to follow through with it. 

Time to keep busy, she decided. The take out containers still sat on the coffee table, an unappetizing reminder of the previous night. She chucked them into the garbage can, pausing only to scoff at the fact that Callum had once again been using a _fork_ to eat his Chinese. Savage.

His sketchbook was on the floor beside the couch, and after a moment’s hesitation, she scooped it up and placed it on the counter. Her hand still lingering on the cover, she thought about opening it and flipping through. It had never been an issue before; he was open with his work, and would even prod her for input on sketches or concepts. But now, she felt the apprehension roil in her gut, and decided she didn’t need to potentially derail herself. No, peace offering, then talking. Focus.

\----

When Callum emerged from the bathroom, he felt more awake, for sure, but when he took in the sight before him, he momentarily wondered if he was actually still asleep and dreaming. When Rayla, _who had apparently **not** been in her room_, looked up at him, he couldn’t make out exactly what was in her eyes. He froze. What could he say that wouldn’t cause her to bolt again? 

“Are you… Is that… Did you steal my shirt?”

Well, that wouldn’t have been his first choice. Thanks, brain. However, despite his awkward greeting, she did not retreat like he feared. Instead, he saw a small smile play at the corner of her mouth, even if her eyes still seemed more distant.

“Hey,” came her quiet return. “I, uh, brought something back after my run. For breakfast. To say sorry.”

“Rayla, hey. No, look, I’m sorry. Whatever it was that I did last night, I apologize. It obviously upset you, and that is the last thing I want.”

“No. You didn’t…” she sighed deeply, then turned and grabbed the bag on the counter. “I think we need to have a talk.”

Callum felt the pit of this stomach drop out. No good thing ever came from those words; he had seen enough movies to know this. But still, after the horrible feelings last night, whatever she needed to tell him couldn’t be worse than the not knowing that had plagued him. Grabbing the two coffees, he followed her to the couch and sat beside her.

Was this it? Had he crossed some line? Was she going to tell him she was moving out? That was going to be it, wasn’t it? He’d ruined the most comfortable friendship he’d ever had somehow, and she was going to walk away from him.

The slap of her palms on her legs brought him back to the present, and he glanced over to see her nervously rubbing her hands back and forth across the tops of her thighs. 

“Look, uh, I don’t really know how to start this.” She took a deep breath. “I guess I need to start by saying that I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. My being upset shouldn’t have been taken out on you. That was unfair.”

“But, I don’t understand _why_ you were upset. What did I do?”

She finally turned to face him, an apologetic smile on her face. “You didn’t make me upset, you dummy. Well, I mean, you did, but not in a way that you could’ve known would happen. That’s what I need to talk to you about.”

He blinked. “You lost me.”

This seemed to hit a nerve, and he saw her smile falter, her throat bob, but she swallowed and placed a hand on his own between them.

“No, but I feel like I’m going to.” She took another steadying breath, closing her eyes for a moment, and when they opened again he could see the determination in them. “Callum, I –” 

_Brzzt!_

His phone could not have worse timing. He was going to ignore it.

_Brzzt!_

He could see the resolve wavering in her expression, and he knew this moment was going to be lost if he didn’t do something. Pulling out his phone, he barely glanced at the lock screen – _why was Claudia texting him at this time of day?_ – before pointedly chucking it down the hall.

“What do you need to talk about?” He took her hand in his own, giving it a squeeze. He bumped his forehead against hers, locking eyes. “I’m here for you, no matter what. You are important to me, ok?”

She was staring at him in shock, and then it was though a dam had broken. He started to make out her expression falling before she was burying her face in his neck. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her. There was a dampness on her eyelashes he could feel soaking through the collar of the t-shirt he’d thrown on, and the little tremors of her shaking sides reverberated against his fingertips. What was it that had upset her so much?

“You stupid, sweet human,” she mumbled into his collarbone. “I’m sorry for all this mess.”

“You mean the snot you’re getting on my shirt?” he joked lightly, rubbing small circles into her back. He heard her snort. “Don’t try and deny it! I can feel it soaking though! And to think, I just scrubbed these manly pecs clean!”

A shaky chuckle escaped her as she leaned back, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Manly pecs, eh? When’d you pick those up?”

“There we go,” he grinned at her. “That’s my sassy elf.”

Once again, she seemed to freeze up for a moment, and then her shoulders sagged. 

“That’s just the thing though. I’m not really _your_ elf, am I?”

He blinked stupidly. _What?_

“I mean,” she continued, avoiding his gaze, “that’s what I needed to talk to you about. I realize it’s probably out of the blue and I don’t want it to be awkward and I don’t know how to make it not be, but last night showed me that I’m losing my grip on keeping it to myself and I don’t want to blow up again and leave you confused because that’s not fair and – ”

“Rayla.”

“– really it’s just this big loop I’m running myself silly in and I can see that, rationally, but it’s like this totally different thing to actually do something about and – ” 

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Rayla. Slow. Calm.”

She fell silent. 

“What do you need to say to me?”

She swallowed. Started to open her mouth, then closed it. Swallowed again. His hands moved from her shoulders to the sides of her neck, his thumbs brushing her jaw.

“Hey, no matter what, whatever it is you need to get off your chest, just tell me. I promise,” his voice dropped to a murmer, “I promise you that it won’t stop what we have, ok?”

“Callum,” she whispered, “I think… I’m falling in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thoughts and comments appreciated.


	4. In Which the Problem is Not Yet Resolved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I am still not making great speed with this, but I do appreciate the feedback I've gotten. Please continue to let me know what you think. I've been struggling to think of a good way to resolve it without either rushing it or dragging in out.

Oh. _Oh._

Suddenly, things were falling into place. The reaction to his choice of model, the hurt when he’d accidentally implied he didn’t trust her. _Man, I made an ass of myself._ It made him wince just to think about.

She noticed his expression, and pulled back, eyes falling down into her lap. “Sorry,” came a weak gulp, as if she was fighting back another round of tears. “I didn’t mean to spring that on you, but I thought you deserved to know.”

His mind was still reeling, and as she stood from the couch, he didn’t even notice as his hand went out to grab hers.

“Rayla, hey – ”

“No, Callum, really, it’s fine.” She swiped at her eyes with her free hand. “You’re not obligated to make me feel better. I get it, I do.” She offered him a watery smile. “I’ve been an ass, and here I am dumping more on you. I’m sorry.”

His grip on her hand tightened. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse pounding in his ears, but once again his traitorous tongue was being uncooperative. All he could do was look up at her, offering a sad smile of his own. 

Swallowing thickly, she gently tugged her hand free, and this time he let her go. 

“I, uh,” she swallowed again, turning her head away. She gestured to the food beside them. “I brought breakfast. Got your – your favorite burrito from the cart out on the quad. Might be getting cold though, I’ll let you get to it.” Her posture was tense, as if she wanted to run, but she made an obvious effort to control herself as she took a step past him towards the hall.

_No, not again. Last night was bad enough._

“Rayla, don’t you want to eat together?” When she didn’t take another step, he continued. “I, uh, missed you at dinner.”

She was standing still, but he knew her well enough to read her body language. She was torn. He would press the advantage.

“Please.”

\----

Rayla let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. How could one dumb human make one dumb word sound so simultaneously soft and hopeful?

“I don’t think I’d make very good company,” she argued weakly.

Callum gave a decidedly dismissive snort. “Hah. I have dealt with drunk Rayla. Over-caffeinated Rayla. Finals Week Rayla. I haven’t been chased off yet.”

She heard the sound of shifting from the couch, and within a moment she could feel him standing hesitantly behind her. Taking another deep breath, she turned to face him. Her heart melted as his eyes lit up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I miss my best friend,” he said quietly, reaching out to take her hands. “And I’d really, really like the chance to sit down with her. Maybe talk?” His stomach rumbled loudly, and she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. His smile widened. “Perhaps over this thoughtfully provided breakfast?”

“Fine,” she huffed, her dramatic eye roll tempered by the affectionate smile she gave him. She knew his tactic. His sweet and patient prodding never failed to work on her. “Wouldn’t want you to suffer any more on my account.”

He was practically beaming at her as he stepped back towards the seating, still holding both her hands.


	5. In Which the Problem is Seen in a Different Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, still chugging along on this. Thank you for all the kind comments. :) I'm thinking maybe one more chapter after this, and possibly an epilogue of sorts, depending on where it decides to stop.

While he had succeeded in preventing Rayla from retreating into her room, Callum realized he was at a loss for how to address the situation. He made a point of chewing slowly, mulling over the information he’d had unexpectedly dumped into his lap.

He’d always been a bit surprised by how quickly they’d hit it off as friends. They’d adapted to being roommates with equal ease, something he’d been told was pretty rare. Somehow, they’d always just… synced. Sure, there were little annoyances that came with sharing space, but, compared to the horror stories he’d heard from others, it felt as if he’d won some sort of roommate lottery.

Glancing over at her now as she nibbled her breakfast, he felt his heart skip. How had he gotten so lucky? Here was this smart, talented, beautiful girl, and she was his best friend. 

Not only that, but somehow, she had fallen for him? How long had she been holding that in?

“So…” she glanced briefly over to him, then back to her burrito. “You’ve got your concentration face on. What’re you thinking about?”

“Huh?” Had he been that obvious? “I – What are you talking about?”

Her head tilted in that adorable way it did when she was giving him the look of sarcastic incredulity. Ears peeking through her hair, deadpan expression gazing up from beneath raised eyebrows – if one look could possibly say ‘Don’t play dumb’, it was this. He was very familiar with it.

“I mean, uh, I was just thinking what an awesome roomie I have.” He grinned at her. “Knows my favorite burrito, remembers my coffee preferences… I mean, what’s not to – ” He caught himself before he could complete the phrase, but didn’t miss the reaction that flitted across her face. _Shit_. Was it worse to say the word around her, or to make a point of not saying and end up drawing attention to it regardless?

“Look,” she began, “As much as I’d really rather not have this awkward conversation… let’s just get it over with, okay?”

He took a steadying breath. “Okay.”

“Now, what did you want to ask me? Don’t you start that innocent face again – I saw those wheels turning.”

His cheeks suddenly felt like they were on fire. Why was this hard? He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus. She needed this conversation to honest, even if he didn’t exactly know what that meant for him yet.

“When? What made you, uh, realize, I guess, what you feel?”

Her eyes went back to her hands, and the half-eaten burrito. “Uh… well… I guess, I mean, I think it’s kind of been sneaking up on me for a while, and I’ve been ignoring it, telling myself that those moments when I felt this strong _pull_ towards you was just because we were such good friends, y’know? Like, I’ve never had a best friend like this before. Where we just meshed so well.

“But then, you remember after your portfolio turn in? That Friday where we celebrated?” Her cheeks were now coloring as well, and she had gone from absently observing her breakfast to studiously and pointedly doing so. 

“I mean, I remember _part_ of it,” he chuckled. “It all kinda gets fuzzy after the tequila got involved.”

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was overheating with the shade of red she was turning. 

“Right, so, well, uh, you were well into your cups, as it were, and I wasn’t so steady myself. And, um, well…”

Callum felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh, no. I didn’t – I mean, we didn’t… Did I – What did I do? Did I do something inappropriate? Did I, uh, y’know…?”

A small measure of relief filled his chest as her expression went from confused to understanding to mirth. Her face was still heated, as were the tips of her ears, but her laughter calmed his panic.

“No, nothing like _that_ , dummy. But you were very drunk, and rambling, and sweet, and…” She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I dunno. It suddenly hit me.”

Callum tried to think back to that night a few months back. It was hazy, and more a collection of snapshots and emotions than anything else, but he remembered the humongous relief he’d felt at finally having turned in the assignment that had plagued him for weeks. The warmth in his chest at coming back to the apartment and finding Rayla had a veritable feast of his favorites already sitting out on the coffee table, and a couple cold bottles of cider that she was just cracking open. Laughing at stupid videos on their phones, side by side on the couch until well past midnight. Looking over at her and thinking she was adorable with that smile and those bright eyes and her cheeks all flush with alcohol. Wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

Looking back at her now, he felt this same rush of feelings. This time, there was no alcohol involved. But this comfortable closeness he had grown accustomed to, this proximity to her – he realized how much he needed it. And the understanding came rushing up: the reason he kept catching himself staring at her, noticing the smallest details, was not that he was some hot-blooded young male, or that he was an artist admiring form, or any other flimsy excuse he could try to cover with.  
When he saw these things, the words that came to mind were adorable, cute, beautiful. When she smiled his chest fluttered. When she was unhappy it constricted. He had developed a dependence on her presence in his life and by his side.

This was beyond a crush; he’d apparently obliviously slipped past that stage at some point, and straight into – 

_Brzzt!_

They both turned to glare at the phone, still laying in the hall.

“For the love of – ”

“Go, check what it is. Maybe it’s something important.”

He caught her eyes, trying to convey that he was not done with… this, whatever it was. She gave him a small smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.

_Brzzt!_

“Go on, dummy.”

\----

As Callum stepped past her to retrieve his phone, Rayla let out a deep she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her nerves were frayed, and she felt the adrenaline receding, leaving a sort of tense exhaustion in her muscles.

But with every breath, she could admit she felt the tiniest bit lighter. This had been weighing on her chest more heavily than she’d thought; the slow build up acclimating her to it like the proverbial glow toad in the pot.

She was trying her best not to listen in, but Callum was not stepping away, so he must not care if she heard.

“Hey, Claudia. What’s, uh, what’s up? Didn’t expect for you to be awake yet.” A pause. “Ah, yeah, coffee is a lifesaver. Rayla brought me some this morning.” He winked at her.

She felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning, and pointedly grabbed her tea. Taking a swig, she winced internally. There had been far too much blushing in the last 24 hours. That needed to stop.

“Oh, uh, a time?” His eyes shot over to hers. “Um, you know, uh, I haven’t really had the chance to think about it. To talk about it, I mean, with –”

_Steady breaths. Don’t be stupid._

“No, I mean, well, yes, but also about –”

_It’s for art. He is a big. He can do what he wants._

“Well, I mean, I can’t see that working any more with Soren around than here. That’s not really what I meant.”

_Whatever makes him **happy**._

“Look, it’s more that, well, I’ve been thinking about… stuff, and um, tossing some ideas around, but I haven’t quite gotten them settled yet. Can I, uh, can I call you later? Or text you, maybe? Once I’ve got everything settled? Great, yeah, no, I really appreciate it. I’ll let you know as soon as I can. Thanks.”

_Boop!_

Steeling herself, Rayla turned to see him sliding the phone into his pocket. His face was not the bright excitement she’d seen yesterday after his phone call with Claudia. Gone was the jubilation, replaced instead with a contemplative expression.

Slowly, he meandered back over to the couch, plopping dramatically beside her with a sigh. 

“Everything alright?” she asked softly. 

“Yeah, uh, just… still bouncing some ideas around, y’know?”

“Ah.”

They fell into an awkward silence. After a moment, he turned his whole body to face her, posture stiffening up in a way she knew meant he was restraining from blurting something out. With a good-natured roll of her eyes, she shifted to face him as well.

“Go on, then. What?”

“I think I understand, but just so I’m clear: it makes you unhappy that I plan to draw Claudia for my project, right?”

Rayla tensed. What was the good answer here?

“I…” she began. _Honesty._ “Yes. It does. I realize that it is petty, and that I’ve no claim anyways, but yes, it makes me feel sick to my stomach the thought of you... y’know.” She waved her hand vaguely.

A smile tugged the corner of his mouth, but he continued. “Is it because I’d be drawing a naked woman? Or because it would be her, specifically?”

Her face turned to a pout. “Because it’s her,” she admitted, annoyed with herself. “I get it, fundamentally, really. I’ve seen the sketches you’ve done in class. I know what it is! But I just… ugh, I just get this twist in my guts because I know she means something to you.”

He shifted closer, so that their knees were touching, and reached out his hands. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed hers in them, and he gave them a squeeze.

“Would you be happier if I didn’t use her as my model?”

_What?_ Her eyes shot to his. 

“I would never ask you to do that.”

“I know that. But I also know that I don’t want you to be upset because of something I did.”

She shook her head. “It’s not my decision. Really. I’m a big girl, and I can handle it. If she is… whatever, your muse, or something, then do what you need.”

That smile on his face was spreading dangerously close to smirk territory.

“My muse, huh?” He released one hand and brought a finger to tap his chin in thought, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I will admit, you were right. I’ve always kind of found her pretty. But I don’t know that I’d use the term muse so lightly. We artists take that thing very seriously, you know.

“Now that you mention the idea, though, I’d say I should probably start thinking about finding one. What would you say are some key qualities I’d want to look for?”  
Rayla blinked at him in confusion. She was still trying to catch up to his sudden dismissive attitude about Claudia’s looks while simultaneously not getting lost in the intensity of his eyes.

“I think,” he continued, “that first and foremost, they’d have to be supportive of my work, right? Encourage my pursuits. Point me in the right direction. 

“Then, secondly, I think I’d want someone who could help me work through difficulties. If I get stuck, I’d want to know that they’d have my back. That they can talk to me.

“I’d need someone with patience –”

“Goes without saying.”

He nudged he with his foot, feigning indignation. “– for when I’m being a pain in the butt. I will admit that like all great minds, even I have my flaws, few as they may be. I’d want someone who could work with me, not around me.

“And of course,” he held the finger aloft to emphasize his point, “this person would be –”

“What?” she interjected, kicking back at him and fighting another eye roll. “Smokin’ hot to boot?”

“I mean, I was gonna say beautiful because it sounded more poetic,” he smirked, “but sure.”

She regarded him with uncertainty. “Sounds like a tall order, mister.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” he leaned in, grin splitting his face. His stretched his palm over her horns. “What’re you, like, 5’10” with these things?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors. These last couple chapters I haven't been going over quite as finely as the first few. If you spot anything, feel free to let me know!


	6. In Which the Problem is Answered

Rayla was pretty sure she could feel her brain stop working. She was vaguely aware that her mouth might’ve been hanging open a little, that she was starting at him, that her heart was thundering so loudly it was echoing in her head. But her mind simply didn’t have the capacity to reconcile this information with any course of action, instead choosing to repeat the last 30 seconds in a loop.

Was this real? Did he mean what she thought he meant, or was she foolishly reading into his words what her unsteady heart wanted to hear? And if he _did_ mean it…

“…when did you get so _smooth_?”

Callum’s grin faltered slightly, cheeks pinking, but he remained where he was, leaning forward with the smile still reaching his eyes.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The smirk returned in full. “I have always been the epitome of smoothness.” As if to emphasize the point, he retracted his hand from above her and brushed it down the front of his shirt. 

She snorted. “Right. Textbook definition, of course.” 

He gave her hand a squeeze and chuckled. “Glad you agree.”

She gave a noncommittal hum, and silence settled between them. She looked down at their still joined hand, his five fingers wrapped around her four, and her thoughts once again drifted back to just what he might have meant moments ago.

When she dared to flick her eyes back up to his, she felt her heart melt at the warmth she saw there. 

\----

Ok, she’d said smooth, right? That was good. It wasn’t dismissal. It hadn’t upset her. This was good.

Callum found himself swallowing, trying to figure out what to say next. She’d answered his question with one of her own, falling back into their usual playful banter, and while he was glad she hadn’t clammed up (because _boy he’d taken that impulse and run with it_ ), he still wasn’t getting a good read as to how she _felt_ about what he’d been trying to say.

Her expression now was one he couldn’t quite decipher; without thinking he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers.

“What are we staring at?” he whispered conspiratorially, feeling his grin return at her startled expression.

“A big dummy,” came the soft reply. 

“Ah. And what do we think of the big dummy?” he prompted equally softly. When she broke eye contact to look away, he bumped her nose with his own. “I hear he’s pretty smooth, you know.”

Those amethyst eyes drifted back up to his. “Sometimes, I suppose. But he can also be kind of cryptic. Talking of muses in such a way to make a girl wonder what, exactly, he’s really saying.”

“What did you want him to be saying?”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “What he means.”

Callum felt his pulse quickening, his mouth suddenly dry. Why were these words so hard to just speak? He took a steadying breath, letting his eyelids flutter closed, focusing on the feeling of their hands and their foreheads and their knees touching, the soft puffs of her breath against his chin, the faintest scent of her fruity tea wafting up.

“Maybe he means,” he began, eyes still closed. A final exhale, and he opened them again. He could do this. “Maybe he means that he needs you by his side, that he doesn’t think he could survive without it, really, and he’s just now realizing exactly _why_ that is.” 

She said nothing, and he pushed on before he could lose the nerve. One more breath.

“Maybe the dummy has been falling for you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the delay. End of semester at work has been nuts. Also sorry for the shortness. Hope you like!


	7. In Which the Problem Was Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prologue/epilogue of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place prior to the rest of the story.
> 
> Because I am a sucker for non-linear stories.

**_~~Several Months Earlier~~_ **

Rayla took pride in doing things well. And, surveying the assembled feast before her on the coffee table, she had to say this was another thing she was going to ace.

Planting her hands on her hips in satisfaction, she let her eyes skim over the greasy pizza, the pile of steaming dumplings, the bowls of chips and dips, and, of course, the mound of fresh jelly tarts special ordered from the Katolian bakery downtown. 

A quick glance at the clock told her she probably had a few more minutes before her unsuspecting roommate returned. Rubbing her hands together gleefully, she set about her final preparations.

Cheesy balloons with congratulatory messages strategically tied around the apartment? Check.

Ciders in the fridge? Check.

Mixers also in the fridge? Check.

Gatorade for after all the drinking? Also check.

From down the hall, she could just make out the sound of her roomie clomping up the stairs. 

“Showtime.”

Wasting no time, she grabbed a pair of bottles from the fridge and sauntered over to her position on the couch. There was the sound of the key in the door, and then the creak it always made as it was opened those first few inches. She smirked to herself as she pried off the caps.

“Welcome home, Callum!” She turned to take in his expression, and was glad for it.

He had stopped in his tracks, not even far enough in to allow the door to close, and was gawking at the debacle she made the living room.

“What the – ”

She grinned at him. “Don’t just stand there, dummy. Close the door and your mouth; you’ll let flies in both.”

His eyes snapped to hers, and within a moment he was sporting a cheeky expression of his own. With an overdramatic flair, he stepped forward, swinging the door shut behind him and dropping his bag beside the counter.

“Now, seriously though, what is all this? Did I forget some elven frat festival?”

She shot him a deadpan look. “Har har, mister. You know, on second thought, maybe you don’t deserve any of this after all.”

He plopped down beside her, his expression curious. “For me?”

And with that, she pulled a popper out from beside the seat cushion, pulling the cord with a shout as confetti exploded all over him. “Congratulations on surviving your portfolio!”

His face was priceless. Complete shock and confusion, giving way to laughter. The little bits of colored paper stuck in his hair and even his eyelashes really made it.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Is that the word for ‘awesome’ in Katolian?” She reached out and plucked a streamer from his bangs. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s what I am today.”

He smiled warmly at her. “You’re awesome every day, Rayla.” Turning to the food, he continued, “Today, you are AMAZING.”

\----

Two bottles of cider apiece and an irresponsible number of tequila shots later, Rayla was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the videos Callum was showing her on his phone. 

“Ugh, it might be about time to call it. I’m havin’ a hard time keeping my head up.” 

“Nooooo…” came the mopey mumble beside her. He draped an arm around her sloppily, pulling her closer. “You can’t abandon meee…”

Boy, that was strong. “Callum, you’ve got some dragon’s breath going. Pretty sure I could light a match and you’d be breathing fire.” She waved a hand back and forth in front of her nose for emphasis, but it ended up being less coordinated than she thought, bopping _his_ nose a couple times. 

“Watch out,” he growled playfully, “or this dragon’s gonna eat you!” And with that, he attempted to bite her waving hand. He lunged, and missed, his momentum carrying his face into her collarbone, where he went limp. “Oh. You’re comfy.”

Rayla was suddenly very aware of how warm her cheeks were; it was probably the booze. Yep. Not his proximity, or his warm breath seeping through her shirt, or the softness of his hair against her cheek. She was just tired, and tipsy, and should probably extricate herself from this situation before one of them did something dumb.

He snuggled up to her, blinking groggily and smiling up with that big, dumb grin she had a secret weakness for. “Suuuuper comfy.”

Yes. Dumb things might be imminent if he kept this up. 

She stared out over his head, noting the small bit of confetti stuck in his hair from earlier. Gently, she brushed it out and carded her hand back through his locks, guiltily relishing the feeling of them between her fingers. The soft rumble of pleasure he gave shook her out of the moment with a start, and Rayla was thankful he seemed too inebriated to hear the way her heart was thundering. 

Shaking her head in attempt to clear it, she slid her hands to his shoulders. “C’mon, sleepy boy. Let’s get you to bed.”

Callum obliged the light shove she gave, leaning away and staring glassy eyed back at her. As if the words had just registered, a slow smirk crept across his lips. “Heh, so forward.”

She blinked a moment before realization dawned, bringing a renewed heat to her face. She really needed to put some distance between them if she couldn’t handle their usual banter. Everything was just a little… overwhelming. 

It wasn’t as though they didn’t touch, didn’t make the occasional pass at each other in jest, but, for _some_ reason, tonight it was hitting hard. It was shooting straight past her defenses and, honestly, at this point, her common sense. She was inclined to blame it on the alcohol, even if the voice in back of her mind gave a derisive snort.

Not trusting her own mouth, she simply stood and held out her hands to help him up. His gaze landed on her upturned palms, followed her arms up, drifted slowly to settle on her face. There was a curious gleam in those emerald eyes, as if he was trying to pin down some elusive thought. It was causing her stomach to flutter.

“Up, up,” she commanded, gesturing softly. Eyes still on hers, Callum placed his own hands into her waiting palms. She gripped them firmly and gave him a tug. “C’mon, now, silly human.”

Rayla was grateful he didn’t resist, rising easily. Perhaps a little too easily, she mused, as he nearly lost his footing and tumbled forward. Lifting their still-joined hands, she steadied him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, finally breaking eye contact to stare down at his feet. “Don’t know why they aren’t working right.”

She smiled warmly at him, the fluttering feeling spreading up into her ribcage. His pout was adorable. 

She was in trouble.

“Almost there,” she encouraged, tugging him gently along towards his room. A swift bump of the door with her hip had it swinging open, and she guided him past her inside. “And there we go! Get some rest, eh?”

He let go of her hands and stood staring blankly down at his bed. After a moment of awkward silence, Rayla cleared her throat.

“I’m gonna go put away the left overs. I’ll check back on you before I hit the hay.”

Taking his grunt as acquiescence, she left to make short work of the coffee table mess, leaving the garbage for tomorrow. Grabbing a couple Gatorades, she flicked off the lights and made her way back down the hall. 

“I’m leaving this on your nightstand,” she announced, popping into Callum’s room once more. Plopping the bottles down, she saw his mop of brown hair peeking out from beneath his crumpled comforter. Before she could stop herself, she was running her fingers through it again. 

He tugged the edge of the blanket down to his nose with a sigh of pleasure. 

“You’re the best.”

Warmth was slowly overtaking the butterflies in her chest. Sitting delicately on the edge of his bed, she continued her ministrations. 

Rayla found herself taking in all the little details. His hair was getting a little long; he’d probably procrastinate until the semester was over before taking care of it. His eyes had stayed closed, but she could still see his dark lashes fluttering as he sighed contentedly. The top of his round, pink ear was mostly hidden under his hair, and she gently teased the locks behind, running her fingertips lightly along the edge.

She knew this was stupid. What this looked like. What it _was_. 

At some point tonight, she had crossed a line in her heart. In the back of her mind, she had the feeling this hadn’t been as sudden as she felt like it was, but regardless of how long it had been creeping up, it was hitting her full force right now.

Callum’s breathing had evened out, his grip on his pillow loosened. After all the stress of the past few weeks, she was grateful to see him looking so peaceful. 

His happiness was really important to her. In fact, her fingers came to a pause, it was probably the _most_ important thing to her. 

The realization was like dirt tossed on a campfire; smothering the ember in her ribs as it flickered and fought for life. Swallowing suddenly seemed both imperative and impossible. She withdrew her hand entirely from his head, clutching it to her chest.

He was her best friend. He was adorable, and funny, and sweet, and kind… and she did not want to mess up what they had. The only thing that would be harder than ignoring… this, would be to lose him because of it.

As if sensing he was the subject of her turmoil, Callum shifted to curl around her at the edge of his mattress, mumbling something unintelligible. 

The proverbial little fire flickered. Her eyes drifted back to his face, slackening once again in the peace of slumber. Her traitorous mind provided an image of waking up beside that expression in the streaming light of morning, and she almost shook her head to clear it.

Instead, she let her eyes flutter closed and sighed deeply. 

“Who’s the dummy now?” she whispered, letting her head drop. 

Another mumble came from beside her, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. Reaching out, she flicked off his lamp. Gently, she rolled him back from the edge and tucked his comforter in snugly. Leaning forward, she could still make out the dark of his hair, his brows, his lashes against his light skin. Before she could second guess herself, she pressed her lips to his temple.

“Good night, dumb human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, once again, a final apology for the length of time it took to get this out. 
> 
> In addition, I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read, leave kudos, and give comments! It really made my day(s)! <3
> 
> Finally, this chapter is what I'm considering the final installment of this story. I toyed with adding another chapter to give a more fleshed out resolution, but I really couldn't think of a good way to do it that didn't feel meandering. That being said, if enough people express a vested interest in seeing something more final to end it, I may revisit it at some point.
> 
> For now, I'm going to try and move on to the rest of the poor neglected Rayllum Week topics I haven't gotten to yet. ^_^;;

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts and comments always welcome. This is my first multi-chapter foray into this fandom, and certainly the once I anticipated being the biggest challenge, as I've never really done an AU. I also went with a different writing style than the first two installations of this collection, as I was having a hard time with it.


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